Knightlights
by Foxfire1
Summary: Drabbles and snippets, updated at random intervals.  Currently featuring Revan, LSF Exile, and Atton Rand in all his dubious glory.
1. Chapter 1

(Author's Note: I dug up a few of these that got cut from something else or written to mess with an idea (or, in the case of #1, because I got irked with a spate of "Revan and Malak as lovers" fic a while back). They all follow this loose post-TSL continuity in my head, in which Revan is hunting Sith in the Unknown Regions, the Exile goes in search of her, and Atton, after a brief period of trying to stay and train like a good little novice Jedi, fails his impulse-control check and takes off after the Exile.)

* * *

**Fallen**

Revan knows she has fallen when she seduces Malak. When she lets her eyes burn golden and her nails trace the smoky tendrils that have begun to creep across his face and neck. When she takes the last of her friend's love - bone-deep, heart-deep, forged over years of companionship - and watches it wither into lust. When she reaches into his mind and wrenches all his thoughts toward anger and desire.

She knows she has fallen.

She thinks she has no further to fall.

She is wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

(A platonic little encounter between Disciple and my LSF Exile, which popped into my head and refused to leave while I was working on something completely different. Takes place sometime shortly after Dantooine, Round 1.)

* * *

**Understanding**

Mical found her where he'd expected to - in the workroom, frowning over an intimidating array of parts and wiring. "I'm sorry."

"Mm?" Still working, all of her attention focused on a delicate twist of circuitry and none on what had happened.

"About the Master you were looking for. You didn't deserve that kind of reception."

She shrugged. It might have been convincing, if she hadn't been moving as if every breath hurt. "It's not so bad. Hells, I even fulfilled every Padawan's fondest dream."

"And that is?"

"Telling Master Vrook to go frack himself sideways."

He had to smile. That moment had indeed been...memorable. But no matter what she said, it hadn't lightened her load, then or now. "You're not fooling me, you know."

She glanced up and met his eyes for a moment. "I know. Just as long as I fool everyone else."


	3. Chapter 3

(Set sometime after the end of TSL, with an LSF Exile and some not-quite-welcome company.)

* * *

**Haunted**

Runes. Nothing but a bunch of damned _runes_, carved onto a half-shattered slab that had once been part of a wall or floor. She'd followed Revan's trail as far as she could, only to find a bunch of - of lines scratched into the stone. Far too old to have been left by her once-friend, but Calla didn't know what - if any - significance they had.

"Dammit, Revan, you're driving me crazy out here!"

_She never was one to follow the easy path._

The voice in her head was familiar. And impossible. But she'd still been hearing it since a few days after Malachor V.

"Would you go _away_?" she asked. "Either I'm hallucinating you or I'm not, and neither idea makes me terribly happy."

_I will do no such thing. No one can walk these worlds alone and survive - not even Revan. Not even you._

"I am alone. You died, remember?"

She felt a whisper of dry humor that wasn't her own, faint and evocative as the scent of dead leaves. _There is no death; there is the Force._

"And a true Sith never dies. You still can't make up your mind, can you?"

Disapproval this time, so strong she could almost see Kreia's lips thin and tighten with it. _Still you persist in this division of light and dark, Jedi and Sith._

"Just healers and killers. If I'm going to be a killer, at least I can do it in the service of the ones who heal. The galaxy needs them more."

_As you wish. _There was a hint of censure in the dispassionate tone._ You are indeed Jedi._

She didn't mistake it for a compliment. "I'm not. I don't know what I am any more, but I'm nothing the Order would recognize as a Jedi."

_You are the last fully trained member of the Order. Those children you awakened look to you. The Jedi are what you say they are._

All her years of training could not help her suppress a shudder. "That's not very reassuring."

She felt a touch of wry amusement in her mind, like the ghost of a chuckle._ It wasn't meant to be._


	4. Chapter 4

(Ties in with "Pazaak" and "Partnership", but didn't work as part of either story.)

* * *

**Saber**

Travel light, travel fast. Travel before Vogga the Hutt noticed the fuel that had gone missing from his depot.

Atton scooped up his handful of possessions and tossed them into the carrysack. Blasters, power packs, a few upgrades he'd never gotten around to installing...pazaak deck, blades, a flask or three of juma...his hand hesitated over the slim rod hidden beneath his footlocker. He hadn't touched it in months, hadn't used it in longer than that, and wearing it would mark him as a Jedi, whether or not he deserved the name. But he wouldn't leave it behind. Couldn't. He'd earned it.

_...standing in the cockpit of the Ebon Hawk, wondering just how uncomfortable he'd be if he bedded down in the pilot's chair. It was either that or the workroom - Mira and Visas had long since taken over the starboard dormitory, Golden Boy considered the medbay his own personal property, and no one but Calla went near the room Kreia had taken as her sanctuary. But he was so tired from the fight at the tomb - from _leading _the fight at the tomb, and why the hell had she picked him for that? - that he could sleep damn near anywhere. He'd slept rougher before._

_He didn't know if it was the sound of her footsteps or the other senses that she'd awakened, but he knew Calla was there well before she cleared her throat. Exhausted as she was - as they all were - from the twin battles for Onderon, she was still trying to project the usual Jedi serenity. But it wasn't working. She looked like - like he did most of the time, all nerves and edginess. She braced herself visibly, hands clasped behind her back to keep from fidgeting._

_"Atton, I - oh, hell. I had this speech all worked out. It was a good speech, too," she added with a fleeting scowl. "But it just felt like I was trying to rally the troops, and you...you deserve more than that."_

_"Speech? What'd I do?"_

_"I said speech, not lecture," she growled, mock-severity hiding a flash of real annoyance. "And I stopped worrying about it anyway. You're very hard to make speeches to, you know that?"_

_He shrugged. "You hear enough of 'em, you start tuning them out."_

_The corners of her mouth quirked; now that he'd met a couple of the Jedi Masters she'd been seeking, he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Just don't tune me out. This is...important." _Frightening_, he didn't quite hear._

_"You don't have to tell me what happened in that tomb-"_

_"I'm not planning on it." It was still too close. Too real. Too - hopeful?_

_"-but I felt you...stand. I felt you win. And what happened in Iziz wouldn't have made much difference without what you did up here." She bit her lip. "A Jedi's Master is supposed to see him through building his lightsaber. It doesn't mean he's stopped learning, just that he's found a place to stand. But the Masters are all scattered, and we don't have the supplies to build a lightsaber anyway. I...I worked with one of the ones we found, to try and make it more like you. So. Um. Here."_

_He almost didn't recognize it when she put it in his hands, but the cool, silky metal of the lightsaber hilt felt almost familiar, as if he'd held it before. Or as if he'd be holding it for a long, long time. One last chance to start again - a chance to shine with his own light instead of reflecting hers. "I can't take it. I don't deserve this."_

_"You do. You've earned it." Her fingers traced the lightsaber hilt, stopping just short of his skin._

_"No. Not just the tomb. I don't - I haven't - frag it, you shouldn't _trust _me!"_

_This time her hands closed on top of his. "Too late for that. I do."_


End file.
